The Five Stages of Dying
by wanderingassassin
Summary: AU Oneshot 1plus2. They say that a person goes through the five stages of dying when informed of their terminal illness. In this case, the patient, Heero accepts his fate while his friend Duo passes from denial to eventual acceptance. Not really a deathfi


**Category: **Gundam Wing 1plus2  
**Author: **Assassin (AKA Fishie)  
**Rating: **PG-13+  
**Disclaimer: **The usual. I don't own Gundam Wing or any of the characters  
**Spoilers:** None  
**Progress: **100  
**General Notes: **I don't know how I stumbled across the Five Stages of Dying, which is basically explained in depth in the book _On Death and Dying_ by Elisabeth Kubler-Ross which I haven't actually read. In any case, I just ran over that title and decided, hey, why the hell not. So in turn, I ended up with this story. Please don't get scared by the title though, nobody actually dies, at least, not in the story. It's all built up, but whether somebody actually does die is up to you. The writing is a bit chunky and lacking fluidity, mostly because I was semi-drunk when I wrote this (I know, I'm not supposed to drink yet, but it was mid-autumn festival yesterday and…how could I resist the beer! But note to all of you: never try Foster's Light Beer with ice, tastes absolutely horrible. Actually, never try the stuff full stop). And as usual, feedback would be appreciated, whether it be you screaming at me for writing something so stupid or otherwise.**  
****Genre: **Some angst, not much really. Mostly General, and some romance if you wish to take it that way.  
**Music: **The Spirits Within – Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within OST; Hana Kagari – somebody…  
**Dedications: **All who despise Light Beer!  
**Summary: **AU Oneshot; 1plus2; They say that when a patient is told that they are suffering from a terminal illness, they go through the five stages of dying. In this case, the patient Heero Yuy accepts his fate while his best friend Duo Maxwell finds himself going through denial through to final acceptance.

* * *

**The Five Stages of Dying**

By Assassin**  
**

Denial

'I'm sorry Heero but…you're…there's nothing the doctors can do and I…you're dying.' The last of the sentence was said in a whisper as Duo gazed woefully at his best friend. He could not believe it as he stared at the teen sitting in the hospital bed before him, his brown hair as messy as it had ever been and his dark blue eyes ever so bright. Heero looked only marginally surprised as he heard the news, his face giving away none of his pain. Duo frowned, fighting the urge to cry, but knowing he had to remain strong, for Heero. As he stood there, he waited for some sign of pain to cross his friend's features, to see some semblances of depression or anger. But Heero merely stared, the only change in expression the mild look of confusion on his face.

'Oh.' The sick teen uttered at last, his voice barely surprised sounding. Duo stared at him in shock, unable to comprehend why his friend was not reacting in any other way. But Heero merely accepted it, as if Duo had made a comment on the weather, before turning away from Duo to stare out the window briefly. 'How long before I die?'

'The…the doctors said perhaps a month.' Duo murmured, his voice hoarse and his vision blurry despite himself. 'They think it might be less.'

'Oh.' There was that "Oh" again, the unsurprised, unconcerned "Oh" that accepted death as if it were a passing comment. Duo stared, unable to say anything else, as Heero shrugged and reached for the remote, switching the television on to the news channel. 'The dollar just dropped again.'

'Heero…'

'Dow Jones has gone up.' The sick teen actually grinned. 'That more than makes up for the three thousand I lost three nights ago.'

Duo did not say anything as he took a seat beside his friend, watching as the sick teen grinned and frowned alternately as he realized the changes in shares overnight. Even as he sat there, both his arms pin-cushions for the half a dozen IV-drips that fed into him, Heero reached for his laptop, turning it on and logging onto his bank account to grin at the money he made the previous evening. Duo had never understood the lure of shares. It all seemed like a rather elaborate, more elegant and less illegal opportunity for people to gamble. Businessmen occasionally put their homes on the line, just as a gambler in a casino would, and yet there were no advertisements about "don't invest in shares". Certainly the economy would die if people stopped investing in shares, but that was not his concern. He frowned as he watched Heero reach for the phone, no doubt calling to buy or sell some large amount of money. Even though he had just been told of his approaching death, Heero continued to work, continued to play around with his shares. The teen was only sixteen years old, but was a certified genius, especially in the lines of business, with his bank account to prove it. It was hard to believe that barely four years ago, Heero had stumbled across Duo's family's doorstep as a homeless boy searching for some food.

'Would you like something to eat Heero?' Duo asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Heero nodded, giving Duo a thankful look before continuing his conversation with the person on the phone, his hands flying across the keyboard before him. Duo waved once before slipping out the glass door, sliding it shut behind him with a soft thud.

The journey to the cafeteria passed without fuss as Duo knew it would. He ran into several people along the way, mostly other patients and their loved ones, and mostly people he now knew by names. The greeted him as they passed, one of them even having the bother to stop and challenge Duo to a bet of who would win the next horserace. Duo declined the bet, insisting that he had no money, but randomly chose a horse just to keep the old man happy. The man grinned widely, yelling a loud "you're on!" as his nurse pushed his wheelchair back to the room he was supposed to be staying at. Duo smiled slightly at the old man's enthusiasm, already forgetting which horse he betted on. He had never been good with horse names, especially when they were called such strange things. What kind of a name was Black Magic anyway? As far as he was concerned, the horse was white.

Lunch Lady Doris loaded his tray with two sandwiches (one minus the beetroot since Heero hated the stuff), and two bottles of mango juice. Duo thanked her as he walked off, greeting more people as he passed. A young, paraplegic girl name Hilde soon challenged Duo to a game of chess, and threw her scrunched up lunch bag when he refused. Duo smiled for Hilde's benefit, promising that he would play with her tomorrow. Hilde made some random threat which had no base due to her condition, but Duo feigned his fright regardless. The girl laughed before snagging another passing person, insisting that they should play chess with her. The poor boy, not knowing what else to do, reluctantly sat down opposite the girl, a frown on his face.

Heero was still on his laptop when Duo entered the room, dropping the tray down gently on Heero's bedside table. The blue-eyed teen nodded his acknowledgement as he continued doing whatever it was that Heero always did. Duo made a face, taking the time to call Heero a workaholic. Who in their sane mind continued on with business and the like when they were about to die? Duo could still not accept how Heero merely nodded to his own death proclamation as if it were nothing, but that was Heero, and Heero was like that. The strangest things mattered to him, while others did not, and for the life of Duo, he could not figure out what really mattered to the teen.

'Don't you have school today?' Heero asked, finally shutting down his laptop to reach for the sandwich. Duo suspected that the sick boy should be strictly eating in accordance to some diet the doctors came up with, but the enthusiasm with which Heero greeted the sandwich when Duo handed it to him that first time a month ago was enough for him to continue, despite the doctors' wishes otherwise. Dully, he wondered if that was the reason why Heero was going to die, and his frantic mind hastily urged him to snatch the sandwich back out of Heero's hands. Not that it mattered, his mind reasoned bitterly, Heero was going to die anyway, wasn't he?

'I only have two classes today.' Duo shrugged. 'Chemistry and psychology, both of my least favorite classes in one day.'

'That's a bit rich coming from a person who's striving to be a doctor.' Heero grinned, reaching for the bottle of juice. Duo grabbed it from the table, unscrewing it before handing it to his sick friend. Heero thanked him quickly, taking a hurried gulp to wash down his sandwich. Duo gave him a mildly disgusted look, but Heero only shrugged. 'How are you going with chemistry anyway? I haven't been to school in a while.'

It was true, Heero had been in hospital since three months ago, ever since he was diagnosed with the illness. It all started lightly enough, just some slight pains in the stomach region when Heero was feeling particularly stressed, some shortness of breath when he was pushing himself too hard in sport, the occasional loss of appetite. The doctors did not even know what was wrong with him for ages, giving random diagnosis in attempts at solving the puzzle that was Heero Yuy's illness. Duo frowned at the thought, remembering how for a few weeks, Heero had looked sicker than Duo had ever seen him while the doctors tried various antibiotics and drugs on him. Even when they finally found out what illness it was, they had not anticipated that it would be terminal. There was only a fifteen percent chance that people with the illness would die, but apparently Heero was one of them, because despite his condition not taking a turn for the worse, he did not get any better. That was a sign to the doctors that Heero would not be making the recovery, but nobody was informed until only this morning. Duo had not believed them when they told him that his best friend was going to die, even now as he watched Heero finish off his lunch and juice, blue eyes fixed on the television, frowning over the speech OPEC was currently making, Duo could not bring himself to believe that in a month, he would no longer be there.

It was not possible, his mind insisted, Heero may not be completely healthy, but he is not going to die. He cannot die! He was too young to die! Heero was only sixteen years old! That was the age for children to be making girlfriends and getting caught surfing for porn on the internet, not the age for them to be sitting in bed, knowing that they would not survive to see next month. Perhaps Heero was in as much turmoil as he was, merely not showing it for the other's benefit. It would not be the first time, Duo thought grimly as he gulped his juice almost furiously down, Heero was always protecting him, always trying his hardest to make Duo happy, even when it meant lying. Perhaps he was lying now, purposefully looking happy just so that Duo did not see how sad he really was. That was definitely what Duo was doing, not voicing his denials or his anger in favor of ignoring the issue altogether. Perhaps they could both just pretend he had not said anything, that the doctors had not said anything, that Heero only had a severe case of the flu.

'You still haven't answered my question you know.' Heero said after a while, snapping Duo out of his revere. 'How are you doing in your classes?'

'Are you going to be all big brother-like and tell me off for my performance now?' Duo asked snidely, sitting down on the edge of Heero's bed.

'That depends on how well you actually performed I'm afraid.' Heero smiled, slipping an arm around Duo and pulling his best friend close. 'So?'

'Well, we haven't got our semester reports yet…' Duo trailed off, but continued seeing the look on Heero's face. 'I think I did quite well in maths and English literature, although I'm not so sure about language since I stuffed up the last test. Physics is going all right, since we're currently studying radiation, which I've always taken a liking to, although I'm not so sure about the last chapter on light. Psychology…well, the last test I know I did badly in, and my last chemistry prac was a total disaster. I've learnt my lesson though: never rush an experiment and end it five minutes in when the instructions said ten.'

'You didn't hurt yourself did you?'

'No.' Duo shrugged. 'But somehow, we ended up with this blue gas when we were supposed to get a liquid. The teacher ushered us all out of class in the event that it was poisonous though, which I'm quite sure it was, but regardless, I'm fine.'

'As long as you're fine.' Heero frowned. 'Although I don't approve of you skipping classes.'

'Sorry papa.' Duo mock apologized with much batting the eyelashes. 'I promise I won't do it again.'

Heero only grinned.

-

Duo felt vaguely proud of himself as he closed the door to his room lightly behind himself before scrambling into bed, throwing the covers over himself despite not feeling the least bit sleepy. His father was overseas on a business trip of some kind, and his mother would not be retuning any time soon in favor of finishing some project at work. Duo was personally glad, not knowing how he was going to face his parents right now. He had managed to keep the atmosphere light and his face happy all throughout the time he spent with Heero in the hospital, and Heero had returned the favor by being his usual self, nothing seeming to faze him. The topic of Heero's upcoming death was left in a box somewhere, buried while the two tried to carry on as if nothing was wrong. Duo personally still believed that there could not be anything wrong.

Heero was healthy, his mind kept insisting, fueled by how normal Heero looked, wolfing down his lunch and tapping away on his laptop. How could anyone like that possibly be dying? Dying people were old people stuck in bed because they were unable to move, with a respirator attached and unable to move their hands more than an inch. People who were attached to IV-drips because they could not eat otherwise, as opposed to merely because of the medicine the plastic bags contained. People who could not utter any words, save the harsh whispers that came through their barely moving lips, as opposed to the quickly spoken sentences that Heero uttered, as he conversed with people over the phone tucked between his chin and shoulder because his two hands were too busy typing away on his laptop.

Duo gripped the bed covers tightly to himself, rocking backwards and forwards as he played images of an even healthier Heero running through the oval, expertly dribbling a soccer ball as he aimed for the goal on the opposite side. Saw the concentration on Heero's face as he dodged past people, swerved around people, feinted left and right to slip past people until he stood before the goal and delivered the ball safely home amidst loud cheers. Saw Heero smiling slightly as his teammates threw themselves on him in their joy, shouting loud cheers as the cup proclaiming them as the statewide champions. Saw Heero lift the cup up high, his smile finally spreading across his face when he located Duo in the crowd, screaming louder than anyone else. Saw Heero being lifted over his teammates' shoulders as they all cheered and whooped and agreed to where they would hold the party afterwards, already making arrangements as to how to get the alcohol they were all not qualified of age to purchase.

Heero was healthy.

Heero was healthy.

Heero was not going to die.

Duo wrapped his arms almost painfully around himself, the covers still thrown over his head, still repeating the mantra under his breath.

Heero was not going to die.

* * *

Anger

'It's sad really…I'm going to miss out on exams…' Heero mumbled, making a face as he reached for a glass of water. 'I actually revised for it too.'

'Only you would be complaining about missing out on exams.' Duo sighed, leaning back in his chair. 'I don't think I'll pass my chemistry…'

'I could help you if you want.' Heero suggested, turning off the TV. 'I've got nothing much else to do.'

'Methinks thou should rest more.'

'That was a lame attempt.'

'Oh contemporary English.' Duo looked heartbroken. 'How you have corrupted me!'

'Tragic, I'm sure.' Heero stretched slightly, trying his best not to dislodge the dozen needles attached to his arm. The sight tugged at Duo's heart, forcing his insides to squirm uncomfortably. Heero was getting steadily sicker, but he was not dying, Duo refused to admit it. His condition had deteriorated in the past, but he had always recovered. This time was no different, Duo told himself, Heero was just having one of his low periods. His body's defenses were only resting, but he would get better, he always did.

'Don't know why they give me so many needles.' Heero mused, staring at his arms. 'I can still eat on my own.'

'You'll get better.' Duo murmured. 'You'll get better.'

Heero stared at him for a moment, his blue eyes impassive. Duo looked away, unable to meet that gaze. Heero reached over slowly, resting a warm hand on Duo's shoulder. Duo was suddenly overcome by a sudden burst of anger as he shook of Heero's hand, jumping from his seat to press himself against the closed door. Heero looked at him, his blue eyes filled with an emotion Duo did not want to interpret despite himself, his hand still outstretched.

'You'll get better.' Duo repeated, his arms shaking as he steadied himself against the glass door. He fancied he could hear the door rattling, but that may have been his imagination. Heero dropped his arm, turning away in search of the remote. He switched on the television at length, changing the channel to a ridiculous reality TV-show. Duo did not move from where he stood, both arms braced on the door behind him, watching intently as Heero reached for his glass and drank, his eyes fixed on the television.

'How much would you demand if I dared you to eat a cockroach?' Heero asked, his blue eyes never leaving the screen. Duo did not answer, his eyes still fixed on his friend.

'You won't die Heero.' He murmured again, his voice barely above a whisper as he pulled open the door and dashed outside, smashing into a nurse in his haste. After a hurried apology, Duo dashed into the bathroom, finally stopping before a sink. The bathroom was empty, which was unsurprising considering the time of night. Duo was grateful, he did not want anyone else to see him like that.

For a moment, he merely surveyed his reflection in the mirror, seeing the chestnut colored hair that fell in a braid to his hip and the wild-looking violet eyes. His chest hurt so badly, as if he was being stabbed by a handful of needles, while his mind swam. With a furious cry, he smashed his fist into the mirror, cracking the mirror and letting it fall in pieces onto the floor and into the sink. His hand stung, the blood leaking freely into the sink as he slowly removed his fist before pummeling the broken mirror once again. Again and again, he punched the mirror until both his fists were bloody, and even then, the pain in his hands felt nothing compared to the pain in his chest.

Again and again, he told himself that Heero was not going to die, that Heero was fine. Damn it, why Heero? Heero was young, he never did anything wrong! Heero had already spent the better part of his life on the streets, not having a warm home to sleep in. Now that the guy finally had a decent home, some good friends and a proper life ahead of him, he was going to die? It wasn't bloody fair!

Duo looked a horrible wreck by the time he emerged from the bathroom. His hands were bleeding, and his eyes were dead looking. Tears and sweat ran down his face, mingled slightly with the blood from his hands when he went to wipe it away. He could not see Heero like this. What had happened to being strong in front of Heero, to being cheerful to help Heero? Since when did he become so selfish anyway? Leaning against the empty corridor wall, Duo remember the look in Heero's eyes earlier, and felt a fresh wave of anger course through him.

Sympathy.

Why was Heero feeling sympathetic for him? Duo was not the one dying, Heero was! But those blue eyes had stared at him with such sympathy, with such…guilt? Guilt for what? For dying? Damn it, Heero did not choose to die. He was dying because of the stupid disease, not because he wanted to. So why should he feel guilty? Duo growled, frustrated, as his fist found its way into the wall yet again. What kind of a friend was he? Heero was lying in his room, dying slowly, at yet still had the effort to sympathy for Duo because Duo was being an idiot. Whatever happened to keeping his feelings to himself? Heero should not have to look at Duo with sympathy or guilt, should not have to feel sorry for anyone but himself. Heero was the one dying, so why did Duo feel like he was lying on that deathbed, waiting for his final breath?

He went back to Heero's room at length, but only because he did not want the other boy to wonder where he had gone. Heero gave him a curious look when Duo entered, and Duo did his best to smile for his best friend. The blue-eyed boy frowned regardless, seeing through Duo's obvious façade but saying nothing of it. Duo made sure to keep his hands behind him at all times.

Heero was typing on his laptop again, and Duo tried his hardest to ignore how much slower the sick boy was than before. It was still faster than Duo had ever been on a computer, but then again, Duo had never been that fond of computers to begin with. When Heero was still healthy, the two of them used to compare Heero's typing speed to Duo's controller speed when playing Tekken. Duo's hands balled into fists again, letting pain shoot up his arms to remind him of what happened the last time he got angry. But Duo's mind continued screaming, only letting the pain fuel it as it cursed Heero's fate. It was bloody unfair!

That night when Duo went home, he ignored his parents and went straight to bed. His parents let him be, knowing how difficult times were for him, but feeling concerned regardless. Duo berated himself for dragging everyone else down in his own irrationality, but was unable to stop himself. He heard the door slam behind him with satisfaction, making sure to snap the lock into place before turning to gaze around his room. In an instant, he had launched himself at his desk, throwing everything off it before turning the desk over. The chairs went next, followed by his bookshelf and stereo system. His CDs and DVDs soon found themselves flung out the broken window, bouncing off the patio roof below before hitting the garden floor. The many posters hanging on Duo's walls were soon ripped into pieces, joining the ever-accumulating amount of trash on his floor. Finally, Duo reached for his laptop, a silver thing Heero had built for him before he was sick. Even as he reached for it, Duo knew he would not be able to throw it away like everything else.

Clutching tightly to the laptop, Duo felt himself sink to the floor and let the tears claim him once again.

* * *

Bargaining

'How'd your exams go?' Heero asked lightly, only managing to sit up in bed thanks to the mound of pillows behind him. Duo frowned slightly, knowing the tirade that was going to follow when he told Heero his exam scores. They were not supposed to get them back yet, but a few of his teachers had let leak the information early, hence pressuring the other teachers to do so as well. The parents have yet to be informed, but the student body knew their marks, and Duo knew he did not go well.

In an attempt to put off answering the question, the braided teen walked across the room, sliding open the window by an inch to let in some air. Heero watched him through narrowed eyes, knowing the technique and not approving it at all. Duo grinned weakly when he turned around to face his friend, doing his best not to cower in the presence of Heero's evil glare. There was just something about that glare that demanded obedience and answers, and damn was Heero going to hurt you if you refused. It was strange that even though he could hardly leave the bed anymore, Heero could still manage that glare without much effort.

'Well…' Duo began, eyes fixed on anything other than Heero. He saw the sick boy narrow his eyes regardless.

'Well?'

'I suppose it could be said that I could have done better.'

'Don't beat around the bush Duo.' Heero was growling! Now there was something people on their deathbed rarely did. 'How well did you go?'

'I got a B for maths.' Duo began, eyes fixed on the window. 'B+ for English literature; B for English language; C+ for chemistry; B+ for physics; C for psychology and a B for biology.'

There was silence for a moment while Duo continued staring at the window, trying to ignore Heero's expression reflecting off the surface. The sick boy looked furious, but under that, Duo saw the guilt, and he felt his stomach clench again. Fury and anger he could have dealt with, but guilt was a different story. Hurriedly, he turned around to face Heero, his mouth babbling a million and one different explanations as to why he did not do well, making sure that none of them had anything to do with the sick boy. But they both knew that it was because of Heero's sickness which distracted Duo from performing well, knew that Duo spent way too much time in the hospital when he should have been at school or at home studying, knew that Duo spent too much of his remaining time wondering just how much longer Heero had to live.

'Oh.' It was that damned "Oh" again, except this time, it was not accepting. This time, it was painful and guilty and hurt and disbelieving and damn it, every damn emotion that Heero should have put into that "Oh" when Duo told him he was going to die. Duo's stomach squirmed again, and he sat himself beside Heero, making sure not to sit on any of Heero's IV-tubes.

'I won't do it again.' Duo promised, wrapping his arms around his dying friend. 'I promise I won't do it again. You'll see Heero! Next time the exams come around, I'll do well, and we can have a party afterwards, right? Next year, when I graduate, we can drink lots and lots of beer and alcohol and get ourselves totally trashed. You'll be graduating too, so we can have a double party at my place, and my parents can leave the house to us just in case we get too rowdy and end up catching them in the crossfire, right? Next time the exams come round, you will watch over me and tell me off when I don't do what I'm supposed to. You can turn off my stereo and make me clear the desk just so I can work, and you'll study next to me and smack me over the head when I get something wrong. Next time, you can tell me mom on me when I start procrastinating again, and you can hold my secret chocolate stash hostage until I work again, right Heero?'

Heero did not say anything at all as Duo gripped almost painfully to him, as if he were a lifeline and Duo was the one dying. He only clutched tightly onto Duo in return, and Duo hoped and prayed that Heero's grip would never slacken, that Heero would always be there. The nagging voice in his mind reminded him otherwise, insisted that Heero would die, and it was all Duo could do not to scream out in fury. Was he really asking for too much? He just wanted Heero around, wanted Heero to be there to comfort him when he was down, to help him when he needed assistance, to growl at him when he did something stupid, and vice versa as always.

He cried as he continued babbling, continued ranting and making bargains with somebody neither of them knew, and Heero help him through it all, never speaking a word. It did not matter though, Duo felt like he was doing enough talking for the both of them, felt that he was crying and hurting enough for the both of them.

Heero's grip never slackened, even after Duo had drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Depression

It was Duo's firm belief that time should be calculated in relevance to how long it seemed as opposed to how many times some universal, would-be impartial clock's second hand ticked a full revolution. But then, time would lose all meaning, and there would be no need to mention something like time again because it would all be so subjective. But that was the beauty of it all, because one month with Heero could be so much longer, could actually feel like a month. Not that he was doing anything productive with his time anyway, but it was the principle. At least here, time was slow, and slow meant more time for Heero, which was the contention of the time argument.

Duo sighed, he really was going mad.

If the doctors had been correct, then Heero only had two weeks left to live. It was unfair and unjustified, but that was their limit. Duo had been praying everyday since hearing the news, hoping that Heero's time may be lengthened, even if it were only by an extra month, or an extra week, or an extra day. He just wanted Heero to live.

Sometimes, he wondered whether Heero wanted to live as much as Duo wanted him to.

There was no doubt that Heero was getting worse. His conditioning was not improving, as Duo knew all along but did not wish to admit. Heero could not tap away at his laptop at all anymore, but at least his voice was still strong. They installed a speaker phone into Heero's room that was voice operated, so Heero could make phone calls without having to move his hands. Personally, Duo did not see why Heero was still spending half his days on the phone. Heero still bought and sold shares as he always did, and managed his money via Duo. It all seemed a moot point, since he was going to die, and Duo could definitely think of a thousand and one other things he would rather be doing had he been the one lying on the deathbed. But Heero insisted on continuing with juggling with his money, making profit and watching his savings grow steadily larger, and Duo respected that. Heero Yuy was the perfect example of a workaholic, not even letting death interfere with his business.

But then Duo ran into Heero's room after school to see Heero conversing with his lawyer, the two of them deep in the middle of discussing about Heero's will, and Duo could not help but run off home. That night, he cried himself to sleep as the reality of the situation hit him once more, and he trashed his room all over again until there was nothing left to destroy. Only then did Duo let the fatigue and grief claim him, and he fell asleep on the floor. The next morning, his mother rapped at his door, asking him whether he was all right and if he was going to school. Duo did not even bother to answer, but banged his fist once on the floor to tell his mother that he was not dead. His mother walked off eventually, marked by the sound of the garage door opening, closing and the car driving off. His father still had not returned from overseas.

Duo had not been able to go back to the hospital after that. It had been two days ago, two days spent lying flat on his floor, not eating, not drinking, not doing anything. He knew his mother was frantic, probably on the verge of smashing his lock and bursting in just to pour some water down his throat, but she understood his pain, understood his grief and knew that he did not want to speak to or see anybody. So she kept silent and buried herself in work, a distraction to counter the negative effects Duo was obviously having on her psyche. Once again, Duo's mind berated himself for his own selfishness, but he refused to snap out of his depression regardless. The same thought just kept revolving around his head, coupled with images of the lives spent together.

Heero was going to die, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Duo felt the tears fall again as he remembered that first day, when Heero crawled onto their doorstep, knocking tentatively for some food. Duo had been the one to answer the door, and upon seeing Heero's sprawled, semi-unconscious form lying on their steps, had screamed, thinking that the boy was dead. His mother had quickly rushed, voicing her own concerns before dragging the dirty and starving Heero inside.

Duo had watched jumpily as his mother stuffed Heero with food before sending him off to the shower. No doubt the boy had been confused, possibly overwhelmed, but Helen Maxwell's maternal instincts. But he did as he was told, and came out dressed in Duo's clothes which were too big for him then because of how thin he was himself. Only then did he introduce himself as Heero Yuy, the first name he heard when he was younger that was not Boy or Thief or Kid. Heero Yuy, the twelve year old homeless child who was suddenly homeless no more. Duo could remember quite clearly how Heero had thanked them with such formality that his mother was left shocked and questioning the boy's upbringing, before turning on his heals to march out the door again. Helen had grabbed him by the scruff of his neck then and insisted that Heero would not live another day out on the streets, and would live with them. Throughout the entire escapade, Duo's father had been overseas in Germany at the time. It must have been a shock to find that he had two children running around the house when he returned, but Duo's father seemed to have long since resigned to his wife's impulsive nature. If Helen said they had two children, then damn as hell they had two children.

Nobody ever asked Heero where he learnt how to read, or how he knew how to do mathematics. Heero simply did, and with such ease it was frightening. Even at twelve, Heero was a credible genius. Nothing ever seemed to puzzle the boy, and when something did, he would instantly launch himself into figuring out how to solve it. Duo would often stumble into Heero's room to find the boy bent over his desk, papers and books lying everywhere, and his laptop sitting in the center of it all. When Duo asked what he was doing, Heero would explain with such enthusiasm that even if Duo did not understand what he was saying (which happened more often than not), it was worth it just to see Heero's eyes glow.

It was strange, because despite everything, Heero was not actually a part of the family. He lived there, but what he did in his spare time seemed to be no concern of Duo's parents. Helen's job seemed only to be to provide Heero with food, a warm bed and signing documents when needed just so that Heero had the guardian column filled, but where he got everything else was beyond Duo. Then he found out that Heero had been investing in shares with the twenty bucks Duo had given him one day after school, when Heero had said he was hungry. Duo never asked how it all happened, but soon, Heero was a certified rich kid.

Who else makes wills? Duo asked himself wryly as he stared absently at the ceiling. Just how many children made wills anyway? How many had enough money or valuable items that they needed to write a will? If Duo was the one lying on the deathbed, then any benefactor work on his part would be to give away his laptop and his stereo and his CDs. How many children had to hire lawyers because they had too much money under their names to give others in any other way? Heero was damn special, and he was going to die within the month. It was more than a waste.

Duo's stomach growled again, demanding food which he refused to give it. He was busy reminiscing, he told himself irritably, too busy trying to make time travel slower so that it seemed that Heero was living longer. Two days spent like this felt like two years, two years of pain and grief and precious reminiscing.

Duo's mother did not hesitate to break down the door that night, nor did she listen to Duo's protestations as she dragged him into the dining room to shove him roughly into a chair. He sat there for a long while, feeling bemused, before a plate of food was shoved before him on the table. Duo stared at it, refusing to eat, until his mother sat herself next to him and threatened to spoon feed him and give him baby food if he continued being stubborn. Duo hesitated, and cracked, eating his first meal in days like he was supposed to.

Suddenly, the walls isolation built around him seemed to shatter, and he broke down in tears over the table. His mother held him, rocking back and forwards while murmuring soothing words, none of which Duo actually heard. The reality that Heero was going to die and there was nothing Duo could do about it haunted him once more, increasing the intensity of his sobs. He pounded his fists on the table repetitively, barely feeling the pain as his old wounds reopened, staining the tabletop crimson. It just hurt so much inside, tugging and tearing at him, an ever snide voice laughing at his own inability to do anything.

'Damn it!' He cried, his voice broken. 'Why mom? Damn it, Heero is dying and there isn't anything I can do!'

'You can be with him dear.' His mother murmured. 'You can hold onto his hand and deliver him safely there…for the both of you.'

Duo groaned, his tears never ceasing, even when he reached Heero's bedside. His friend embraced him, his grip weak around Duo, but there nevertheless. Duo's tears only increased, and Heero held him once again until he fell asleep.

* * *

Acceptance

'You believe in reincarnation 'Ro?'

'Not really.' Heero shrugged as best as he could, propped up by a mound of pillows. 'And don't shorten my name, reminds me of that MMORPG.'

'Which MMORPG?' Duo asked, pouring his best friend some water. Heero gave him a look, which said simply "you know the one I'm talking about". 'Ragnarok.'

'That's the one.' Heero sighed. 'There were so many people into it as well, it was scary.'

'You love your online games.' Duo fed Heero the water slowly, making sure not to spill too much. Heero shrugged once again.

'They are somewhat interesting.'

Heero only had a week left to live, one measly, tiny week. It bothered Duo, but there was no point in denying it. Heero's condition was deteriorating, but at least they could spend the last of their days happily, or so Duo hoped. They had gone back to ignoring Heero's fast approaching death, but for a different reason this time. What was going to come would come, and there was no point in complaining about it until it did. Duo still did not know what he would do when Heero finally died, how he would cope with actually losing his best friend. But for now, the both of them accepted what was to come, and although Duo still slipped into bouts of depression, he no longer let them control him. Heero needed him happy and smiling, and that was what he was going to give him.

'I wrote my will.' Heero said suddenly, his blue-eyes fixed on Duo's, gauging how the other teen would react. Duo frowned, but nodded, signaling for Heero to continue. 'My savings...I'm leaving fifteen perfect with your parents, fifteen to the local orphanages, and twenty to medical research.'

'Ah…wait a minute.' Duo frowned again. 'What happens to the other fifty percent?'

'I'm giving it to you.' Duo's head snapped up, shocked. Heero watched him evenly, shaking his head when Duo opened his mouth to protest. 'You can do what you want with it, but that money I am giving to you.'

'But you can give that money to other people! People who need it…'

'I'm giving it to you.' Heero sighed, letting a weak smile cross his features. 'Call me selfish, but please keep it for me Duo. Use it to go to a good college, a good university. Use it to buy yourself a fast car in the future, a nice house. I won't get to live my life, but I would like it if you could live yours for the both of us.'

That was one of the few times when Heero openly voiced that he was going to die in Duo's presence. The braided boy wanted to object again, but Heero's face was set, his eyes pleading.

'This is the final wish of a dying man.' Heero murmured. 'Please Duo.'

There was nothing else Duo could do but accept, and it was worth it to see the smile breaking across Heero's face, his blue eyes lighting up. Duo smiled back, his own eyes sad as held Heero's hand, reveling in the look of utmost content on his best friend's face.

Live their lives for the both of them, Heero said.

Yes, Duo would live their lives for the both of them.

_This I promise you, Heero._

_

* * *

_**Authors Notes**

No, I'm not having fun being totally morbid at all! But they do say that beer is, in a sense, a depressant, and well...yea. Hope you all enjoyed that on some degree, regardless of it's weirdness. I'm not sure how realistic it sounded, being that nobody particularaly close to me has kicked the bucket yet, for which I am grateful. Regardless, well...yea. Review and tell me what you thought of it, okay?_  
_


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